Babysitters for the Weasleys
by slytherpuffpride1997
Summary: When Molly Weasley is out running errands, who does she call? The babysitters! Can five-year-old Fred Weasley take on the babysitters with the help of his siblings? Or will he be the only one fighting? Read to find out!


Disclaimer: I own nothing, sadly. All HP characters belong to JK Rowlling. Duh.

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"Percy! Fred! George!" called Molly Weasley.

She was holding her youngest child, Ginny, while her second youngest, Ron, was clinging to her leg. Percy, Fred, and George Weasley all ran down the stairs, pushing each other, racing to get to the bottom. Fred reached the bottom first, or was it George? No one could ever tell. Molly even put the letters of their first names on their shirts. Still, they wore each other's clothes. Percy, on the other hand, had reached the bottom last, tripping on the bottom steps. His square glasses jumped off his face, and he searched frantically for them before Molly took pity on him and got them herself.

"Percy, Fred, George, I have already told Ginny and Ron, but I have to run out. Charlie and Bill are at Hogwarts, and your father is at work. I have hired babysitters," she explained. Percy, Fred, and George groaned.

"But Mum-" whined Fred.

"-we don't like babysitters-" whined George.

"-they're mean-"

"-and say we're bad-"

"-and give us punishments-"

"-and last time, they ate all the chocolate cake." George smiled at his last accusation. Molly glared at him.

"I _know_ who ate all the chocolate cake," Molly said. She glared at her children. They all looked at her with sad eyes. Being a mother with seven children was hard work.

"I've hired the best babysitters," explained Molly in a matter-of-fact manner. "They are not mean. If you arebad, they have been _informed_ to give you punishments-" there was a knock at the door, "-sounds like they've arrived."

Molly ran over at the sound of voices outside and opened the door.

"Hello, Sierra, Eamon, welcome to our home!" Molly smiled warmly, ushering them in.

"Hello!" squeaked a blonde woman. Her hair was up in a tight bun that looked like it would pop, with a curled bang dangling above her left eye. She waved to the children.

They all waved back apprehensively, exchanging curious glances with their other siblings.

"Looks like you are all getting along swimmingly," Molly smiled.

She put Ginny down who still had her puppy eyes out. She tried to pull Ron off of her leg, but he was the nearest thing to stuck. If Molly hadn't known any better, she'd say Fred and George put a sticking charm on Ron. He had wide eyes and looked as if he was about to cry. He certainly had the most adorable face of all of the Weasley children.

"Pwease don't weave, Mummy," he begged, tears daring to slide down his chubby face.

"Yeah, Mum," George piped in.

"How could you say 'no' to this face," Fred added, motioning to Ron.

Molly messed with the hem of her apron and pushed a stray lock of curly red hair back behind her ear. Denying Ron was like denying an abandoned puppy that was howling in the streets looking for its mother; in other words, almost impossible.

"Oh, boys," Sierra chirped disapprovingly, but still cheery. "Don't you worry, Molly. These boys are in good hands."

Molly gathered her strength, both physical and emotional, and pulled Ron off of her leg. She untied her apron and hung it on the back of a wooden chair.

"Now, don't misbehave!" Molly warned, pointing a finger at them. She gave them each a kiss on the forehead, and petted Percy's bushy red hair.

"We won't," they all groaned, rolling their eyes.

Molly shot a warning glance at the red-headed children and left. They heard the car start outside.

"You know," Fred smirked deviously to the babysitters. "That this means war!"

With that, they all ran upstairs with an explosion of battle cries. Of course, with Ginny being two, she stayed downstairs. They couldn't risk hurting their little sister. She was the only sister they had.

Ron, Percy, Fred, and George all sat in a circle in Fred and George's room. Percy found their room to be horrifying. There were old socks hanging from the top bunk of the bunk bed. There was trash and half eaten food all over the place. It was worse than their pig sty out back! The twins, at the age of five, made explosions with a Muggle chemistry set. They'd even managed to create and set off a stink bomb in Percy's room once. Afterwards, Percy had gotten Charlie, their eleven-year-old brother, to destroy the amateur, Muggle chemistry set. However, this was their headquarters when the house was infiltrated by babysitters. No babysitter would _ever_ want to go up in Fred and George's room. Percy scowled as he reminisced of one babysitter who made _him_ do all of the work. He was only six at the time!

"Well, that didn't work," Fred said in disbelief, as if addressing his inferior.

"I told you it wouldn't," Percy boasted, folding his arms over his chest and closing his eyes behind his glasses. "She would never give in to constant begging."

"George," Fred commanded bluntly.

George took the pillow he was sitting on and hit Percy in the head with it. The twins burst into a giggle fit.

"I want Mummy!" Ron cried.

He suddenly sniffed the air. They all copied the youngest of the group. It was the smell of fresh baked cookies wafting around the house. Ron, being the first to distinguish the smell, jumped up and ran down the stairs as fast as his three-year-old legs could carry him, a lopsided smile plastered on his face.

Fred, George, and Percy looked at each other, then ran after Ron. As soon as they got downstairs, they saw the man named Eamon. He had black hair that was long and pulled back into a slick ponytail. His blue eyes burned holes into their minds as he looked up at them. Ron was jumping to try and reach the cookies that were placed on the table by Sierra.

"Boys," scowled Eamon.

They glared at him.

"Now, now, Ron," said Sierra. She picked Ron up as he reached for a cookie. "Listen to Eamon, ok?"

Ron nodded slightly.

"Boys," Eamon started, gracefully standing so as to gain an advantage over the young boys. "You see these cookies? They are frightfully delicious, seeing as my wife makes them quite often." Ron squirmed. "I wouldn't mind sharing. All I want in return is your cooperation. That, however, is _your_ choice."

"We don't want your cookies!" Fred yelled. "And give us back our brother!"

"No! I wan' a cookie!" Ron whined, kicking his legs.

"Will you cooperate?" Eamon asked slowly.

Fred, George, and Percy all whispered, "No! No!" and shook their heads frantically.

Ron got teary eyed as if making a life or death decision. "Ok..." he muttered. It was barely audible.

"Here's your cookie-wookie," Sierra said in a baby voice, taunting the cookie above Ron's head.

Ron giggled, the dimples in his cheeks appearing instantly.

"One down, three to go," Eamon smirked as the boys ran upstairs.

"We lost Ron!" George exclaimed, clutching his head.

"Yes, I know!" Fred yelled for the zillionth time.

They and Percy had run down the stairs again, meaning to speak with the babysitters. Fred was Furious, with a capital "F".

"Listen!" Fred shouted stubbornly. "This is my house not yours! Mine!"

"I was asked by your mother to watch this house," Eamon smirked not looking up from his book.

Fred's face got red, he'd always felt like the king of the house when Charlie and Bill weren't home. They were the only ones who, he felt, had any authority over him, besides his parents, of course. Although George was older by a few hours, Fred was still the leader of their pack. Percy was also older than Fred, but Percy was a twat so it didn't matter.

"What're two five-year-olds and a seven-year-old going to do?"

Fred and George marched back upstairs, but stopped when they knew that the babysitter couldn't see them. Where was Percy? Fred peeped around the corner of the stairs and saw Percy wavering from one foot to the other nervously. Then they saw it. Percy had seen it. The book that Eamon was reading was about Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic.

"Is that the Minister for Magic?" Percy asked cautiously, still fluctuating between feet.

"Why, yes it is," Eamon smiled, shocked that the seven-year-old could tell him who the Minister for Magic was. "Do you have any interest in learning about him?"

"Yes, I do, but Mum said I won't learn about him until I get into Hogwarts. Dad always tells me stuff though, tidbits, I would say." Percy chuckled, pushing his square glasses back up to the bridge of his nose.

"Well, if you learn now, you can impress your professors. I believe that Professor Binns is still the History of Magic teacher."

Percy's eyes lit up, and he smiled. Eamon opened his book and started to read aloud to Percy.

"Cornelius Oswald Fudge grew up in..." Eamon read. That was all that the twins heard before trudging up the rest of the stairs.

"Great!" Fred screamed, slamming the door behind him. "Now we've lost Percy too!"

"He was the brains of the group!" George wailed, shoving his face in his pillow. "We're done for."

"No! I won't be bossed around by- by- Mr. Bossypants!"

"Yeah!" George chanted as he removed the pillow.

"We will say what goes!" Fred continued cheerfully.

"Yeah!"

"And we will fight!"

"Yeah-! Wait, no!" George gave Fred an apprehensive look, his eyes wide in fear.

Fred stomped angrily down the stairs, George tagging after him nervously.

"Came back, I see," Eamon said with a look of astonishment. Fred saw Percy sitting on the floor, not daring to look at his younger, yet still somewhat intimidating, brother.

"Still a meanie, I see," Fred scowled as he turned his attention back to Mr. Bossypants.

"May I ask why you are here?"

"We are here to fight!"

George glanced worriedly at his defiant twin. Fred's love of debating and arguing always got him into trouble.

"There will be absolutely no fighting."

Fred growled and crinkled his nose in anger.

"I can always tell your mother." Eamon raised an eyebrow at the little red-head.

George's eyes widened. "D-don't tell Mum-mmy; please, a-anything b-but that!"

"I will not hesitate to do so."

Fred stuck his tongue out at Eamon and ran up the stairs, expecting George to follow. Hearing only his footsteps, Fred tip-toed back to the hidden spot on the stairs, and spied on the pair.

"George, what's keeping you here?" Eamon asked with what sounded like concern.

"Well... I don't want to make Mummy mad..." George explained, biting his lower lip.

"Then just stay with us for a while." Eamon smiled at him and held out his hand.

"But I can't leave Fred." Fred's ego was being fed as he heard that his own twin would stay by his side.

"Either deal with Fred or your mum."

This was a tough decision. Fred's revenge would be years of payback. George knew that his twin brother was one to hold a grudge. His twin was more daring and ambitious, but George had common sense and told Fred if his ideas were dangerously stupid. His mother, however, could ruin his life. She could embarrass him in more ways than Fred. Honestly, he loved his brother. He was always his friend. He was always there; but his mother was too. He felt he'd be lost without both of them, but had to decide which he could take a punishment from. George sighed.

"Fine, I'll stay," George muttered reluctantly.

"Ugh! Now George's gone!" Fred scowled, recalling every last bit of information to his teddy bear, Mr. Flibbles.

How could his own twin brother abandon him? ABANDON HIM.

BANG!

Fred flung his book at the wall. In a rage, he ran downstairs.

Eamon looked up from his book. Percy was still sitting on the floor. George and Ron were in the kitchen with Sierra, who had just baked a batch of brownies. Ginny was drawing with a marker that her father had charmed to fade away after a few minutes. This was going to take a lot of nerve. Fred took a deep breath, when Molly walked through the door.

"I'm home!" she called.

She was greeted by Ron, George, and Percy running to hug her. Ginny was stumbling behind, but she waddled over and hugged their mother as well. Fred stayed put, his mouth wide open and a flabbergasted expression plastered on his face.

"Now, Sierra, Eamon; were there any problems?"

"Yes, well, Fred was talking back to me and arguing with me almost the whole time," Eamon said in disbelief. Fred saw the fake worry in his eyes and scowled.

"And, the others?" Molly asked apprehensively.

"Perfect-angels."

"Fred, go to your room and do not come out until I say so. The rest of you boys can run along."

Fred, George, Percy, and Ron walked upstairs. Fred was steaming. He absolutely _hated_ babysitters! He absolutely _hated_ his mother for leaving! Worst of all, he absolutely _hated_ his brothers for ditching him and blaming him!

George stopped at the bathroom and Percy at his room.

There was an awkward silence. You could cut the tension with a knife.

"You know, you should'a switched to the dark side with us," Ron smiled, a big chocolate chip cookie in his hand.

"And why would I go to the dark side?" Fred scoffed as if it was the most absurd thing in the world; because in his opinion, it was.

"Because the dark side has cookies," Ron smiled. He took a bite of his cookie and skipped to his room.

Fred knew that if they needed to be babysat again, Mum would call those two dingbats and the war would continue. But first, he had to spend his punishment in his room and vent to Mr. Flibbles, _again_.

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My first story! Please be nice... reviews would be nice as well :)

**-slytherpuff1997**

**P.S. A SlytherPuff is a cross between a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff.**


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